Impossible
by cimmimon
Summary: The impossible girl sitting in a interrogation room with the Avengers. One-shot.


**So like I always wanted to write one of these, and I love this little piece I wrote and I fear if I add on to it I will ruin it entirely. Now I love Clara Oswald and wish they wrote it out better finding out she had so many echos out there, had so much potential. Anyway of track this is a one-shot and will stay that way for foreseen future my other story is in the works and trying to overcome the writers block that it had formed... Entirely my fault. **

**...**

How she came to be sitting in an interrogation room she would never have a clue. Sitting in the metal chair for over an hour now made her bum feel sore. Her chocolate brown eyes glanced to the false mirror where she knew people stood behind watching her. Sighing she blew the messy brown curls out from in front of her face. Crossing her arms again for the eighth time that hour the door suddenly opened.

A tall man, in her eyes he was tall, walked into the room and sat across from her. He had blonde shaggy hair and blue eyes. She gave her cold glare to him, she had already wasted enough time in this room. Laughing on the inside about her joke she nearly missed what the man was talking about.

"My name is Steve Rogers and it's nice to meet you ma'am."

"Oh, a man with manners, please call me Clara," she teased him causing him to shift on his feet before he pulled out a chair and sat down with a file on the table.

"Some developments and information have just been found about you miss Clara," he continued opening the file.

"I hope it isn't too bad, sir."

"It might be," he slide some photos towards her. "You have been found in different time periods in pictures that records back to when photography was created and further back with written records, some may not be you but we won't take our chances."

"Well this is interesting," Clara looked at him without even glancing at the photos.

"You don't sound so surprised miss?"

"Well it could just be genes."

"We've double checked family history on all these women, miss none of them leads to your family tree."

"Must be a coincidence then."

"Unlikely, each of these women have the same letters in your name, each are caretakers of families not of her own and each have died. Who are you?"

A knowing smirk came to her face as she looked at the soldier who was frozen in time, "I am Clara  
Oswin Oswald."

"We know that ma'am but how are you here and there at the same time?"

"You know about time, yes?" She tilted her head to the right staring at his confused face.

"What does that have to do with any of this? You died in all those instances time travel would be out of the question."

"Some people would beg to differ," she quirked her eyebrow.

"What people?"

"I think you know who I'm talking about but ask your next question please."

He gave her a look, "Alright then, what are you then?"

"Human," she responded in a duh kind of tone. "Let me help you a little bit, ask the right question and this interrogation might get somewhere in the next few minutes."

"What kind of questions?" he asked curiously.

"People," she began to explain, "tend to ask the most obvious questions with answers that are staring them in the face. The clever people tend to ask the questions which no one ask most likely out of fear or danger. The clever people ask those questions because those questions tend to have solutions and answers to your problems."

She looked to the man across from her before asking, "Why am I in an interrogation room all of a sudden when these facts and information have been known by children for a year now and these photos which are probably on the internet and in museums and no one has come to question me about?"

Steve froze at that question as well as the others behind the false mirror. This woman that has died several times throughout time asked a question that none of them had asked but had raised a good question. They could have found out about her years ago from photographic evidence with her in it, but why was it being brought to their attention now.

"Why would we be here if we could have found out about you years ago?" Steve asked cautiously.

The brown haired woman in front of him shrugged her shoulders, "Could be many things, or this could be a trap."

"A trap? Trap for who?"

"Now you're getting to the good questions. A trap for who? Now who would want me in the same room as you at this exact time, unless they wanted both of us here to distract someone from the main goal."

Steve went over her words before asking, "Distract who? And why would you think that this is a plan to distract them?"

With her head still tilted she gave a dazzling smirk. "Because the only three things special about me is why we got stuck into this trap."

"And may I ask what those three things are?" An even brighter smirk flashed on her face as her eyes dazzled with time beyond her age.

Leaning back in her chair and unfolding her arms she brought out one finger and started counting. "One, I watch over two amazing children as a caretaker," A second finger was brought up, "I'm an impossible girl that's died several times," A third finger came up and if her smirk could grow larger it would as she heard the loud groaning sounds appearing in the room freaking the occupants watching her. "And third, I travel with a madman in a box that can go through space and time…"

The next thing anyone knew was the woman was gone and in her place was a big blue telephone box making wheezing noises.


End file.
